Page 31 of Last First Date
But it turns out that Abernathy's reputation for pleasing women was well earned, and maybe even downplayed. Christ, they should write poetry about his skills.Ode to a Massive Manacondaor something.
Because not only is he by far the biggest man I've ever laid eyes on in real life, but he's also one of those men who truly cares about the pleasure of his partner. Me. As in he cares very much that I’m the one who comes first and most often. It generally felt as if my own pleasure fueled his.
I can't stop staring at him like the schmuck that I am, and I really want him to open his eyes and stare back at me too. So I brush a little lock hair out of his face and then he absolutely slays me with the happiest smile I've ever seen on his face. "Hey," I murmur at him.
"Hey yourself," he says and leans in for a kiss.
I put up my hand between us like a shield because I know that I've got the worst morning breath from all the panting and whatnot that I was doing last night, but he laughs at me, then pulls my hand away and kisses me like it's his job and pleasure all mixed into one.
I can feel myself growing languid in his arms and as much as I'd like for us to have another round, I think my vagina might actually rebel and run away from home if I let Abernathy anywhere near her again right now.
"I can't," I mutter. "God, I really do want to, but I might die if you even try to put any of your parts inside my parts again at this moment."
He laughs, and then kisses me some more. "We're just kissing, you pervert. I don't know why you have to make everything about sex." He feigns outrage. "I'm not some piece of man meat for you to use whenever you see fit."
I can't stop giggling now, and finally a snort comes out. Great. I'm so unladylike that it's probably going to actually kill my mother once she figures out what I'm really like underneath those itchy cardigans she's always buying for me.
I'm still the girl who snort-laughs and tells dirty jokes and swears too much. I'll always be the grab a beer girl instead of the wine tasting type. And honestly, I'd rather two-step than waltz for the rest of my life.And I can spit as far as the best of the guys at the station.
"Well, come on and help me find my clothes. I have to get up and go somewhere this afternoon and I'd probably better get some sleep first."
He doesn't make a single move to get out of the bed, but instead pats the space right next to him. "You can sleep here. For some reason, I'm super tired too. Almost like I was up all night long." He shrugs, pretending like he's oh-so-puzzled about why we're both raggedy and dragging ass this morning.
I lean away from the inviting picture he presents there, all snuggled into his pillows and blanket, his magnificent body on full display while I ache in all the right places with the memory of what he can do with all of those expert parts of his.
"Come on, Darcy. Just stay in bed and cuddle with me some more. We'll both get some sleep, and it'll be the best morning you've ever had." He's so damn good looking, especially all mussy and sleepy like this that I don’t feel ready to go yet, so I snuggle up next to him and let him cuddle me some more.
But then he starts running his fingers through the giant tangle of my hair. Next he's kissing my neck with that wicked mouth of his. "You're not going to let me sleep, are you?"
I glance over my shoulder at him and he's giving me his best faux-innocent look. "I'm so tired, though. Especially when you're all cuddled up next to me. Come here." He pulls me up against him.
"Abernathy," I say as I shift uncomfortably at the insistent throbbing of his giant hard-on.
"What is it?" He presses himself even closer to me, his front against my back. But no matter how much I wriggle around, he still feels like an inferno with a giant boner trying to smother me.
"I'm not going to be able to sleep with that huge weapon of yours poking me in the back."
One of his eyelids cracks open and he wrinkles up his forehead. "It's just morning wood. It happens to all of us, Darcy. Don't get all worked up about it." He pauses. "Also, it might help if you could stop wriggling that sexy ass of yours all over me. I can't help it that he likes you."
I huff. "He likes me, huh? Well I like him too, but not when he's keeping me from getting some sleep."
He bursts out into a laugh, but then tries to cover it up by faking a cough. Badly faking a cough, that is. "That's not what you said last night."
I pull away from him and get up and start the search for my underwear. As excited as we were to get each other's clothing off last night, I figure most of it is in a pile by the front door, but my underwear are in this room somewhere. Probably.
But Abernathy reaches for me, twining his fingers around mine and pulling on my hand until I turn to face him again. "Come on. Don't run out of here and go sleep the morning away at your place. You're making me feel really cheap here, Darcy." He says it lightly, like he's making a joke, but I definitely get the impression that he's not actually kidding.
"I don't mean it that way. I really do want to stay but come on. You've got to do something about that morning wood, or I'll never get to sleep."
He laughs at me. "Do you have a suggestion? Because I do, but I'm not sure if you're going to be up for it or not." He leers at me in a way that is nothing short of ridiculous, and I break up laughing again.
"Cold shower?" I offer helpfully. "Baseball statistics? The periodic table? Reciting recipes in your head?"
He flops on his back, his mega-wood proudly straining in the air like it's saluting me. "Darcy, everything you said except for the cold shower is supposed to help with making sex last longer. You know. Orgasm delay."
My nose scrunches up. "Good thing I'm not a man then. I hate even hearing about trying to delay orgasms. That's just dumb."
His eyes light up with the promise of something very naughty. "Are you telling me you've never tried to hold off an orgasm Darcy?"
